Belonging
by JamiW
Summary: Set post-The Mafia Connection, this story is Lauren and Bernard's weekend in California.  If you haven't read TMC, this won't make much sense.


**Lauren POV**

* * *

><p>When I was in college, I thought about it from time to time.<p>

Not in the flowery, romantic sense, but about the reality of it.

Marriage.

How it would feel to promise myself to someone, to the same man for the rest of my life.

And I'll admit it…back then, it scared me a little, and not just because of my own parents' horrible example.

Thinking about having a family and responsibilities that were greater than myself…it was slightly daunting, and I thought maybe something was wrong with me for not having that dream with the hazy glow of idealization.

Because I was never really sure about having kids anyway…never sure that I was the type of person who could be happily monogamous.

Not forever, anyway.

But I wanted to keep an open mind about it.

Because despite my doubts and misgivings, I still had that youthful sense of hope that my life was going to be _good_.

I'd be happier than my parents…I'd achieve success in my career.

And maybe…just _maybe_…I'd find a man who would inspire me to want to settle down.

And then Bill Flowers came into my life.

For a long time, I thought I'd never be happy again.

And I definitely knew I'd never settle down.

My only hope was that I could still be successful in my career.

So I focused on that and gave up on everything else.

Oh, I still dated.

I went through a few textbook cycles, post-Flowers.

At first, I dated men who were bad for me because I felt like that was all I would ever deserve.

None of them cared about me for anything other than my looks.

Some were verbally abusive, degrading me in an effort to make themselves feel better.

Most of them were players, stringing two or three women along at once.

And all of them were absolutely the last thing I really needed.

The final straw was when I went to a boyfriend's apartment one night and I found him in bed with another woman.

He wasn't bothered by it at all.

In fact, he asked me to join them.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was when, after I called him some appropriately vulgar name and went to leave, he came after me.

He grabbed me and shoved me into the wall, and within a split second, I pulled my gun on him.

It's a miracle that I didn't kill him because my heart was pounding and the fear rolling through me had taken on a life of its own, and of course at the time, I denied the fact that it had anything to do with _anything_ other than the current situation, but still...

After that, I dated men I deemed as _safe_.

For me, that usually meant they were younger than me, and somewhat shy, and not necessarily very attractive.

These facts allowed _me_ to maintain control of the relationship.

It's sad, I know, but it helped me in my effort to be normal.

Or at least, that's how I rationalized it.

I went through the motions of my charade for a few years, but none of the relationships amounted to much.

So then I decided to avoid men altogether.

It was just easier that way, because I wasn't good enough for the type of guy I wanted…someone who would look past my scars and just love me for me.

That kind of guy didn't _need_ to settle for someone like me.

Because they could do better.

But then I met Bernard.

And that first day, when I sat at Alex's desk in 1PP…I can't describe the feelings that went through me when I laid eyes on him.

_"Can I help you with something?"_ he asked me.

"_I don't think so. I'm waiting for my partner,_" I replied dismissively.

Because not to sound arrogant or anything, but I get hit on a lot. It doesn't seem to matter that I don't look for it; it just happens.

"_And that would be…"_ he said leadingly.

"_Not really your business_," I told him, and I finally looked up, expecting…I'm not sure what.

Some cocky Don Juan wannabe, maybe.

What I saw was something entirely different.

For starters, he was looking me in the eye.

Like he was seeing _me_ instead of my physical attributes.

Secondly, there was something undefined about him that caused me to do exactly what I would've flayed him for doing.

I thoroughly checked him out. And I mean from head to toe. I don't know what part of me gave that directive to my brain, but that's what happened. He was unlike any man I'd ever gone out with and yet I found myself instantly attracted to him.

When my gaze returned to his face, he was still watching me, his intensely dark brown eyes still focused on my _eyes_, instead of other areas men tend to stare at.

I had to force myself to look away from him, so I turned to the man standing next to him.

"_My partner's just looking out for you because if Detective Goren comes back and finds you sitting at her desk_," the other guy said, almost teasingly.

He had a friendly face and a quick smile, but all I wanted to do was look at Bernard again.

Of course, at the time, I didn't even know that was his name.

And I sure as hell didn't know that six weeks later I'd be his wife.

"_Are you planning your escape route_?" Bernard asked me early this morning, his voice husky from sleep.

I'd been lying on my back, staring at the ceiling and lost in thought, but the sound of his voice had me turning towards him, going into his arms.

"_Why on earth would I want to escape?" _I asked as I settled into his embrace.

Despite not having slept a wink the entire night, I felt wired and adrenalized.

Of course, even though B _had_ slept, it wasn't much, since we didn't get into bed until after two, and the alarm was set for four-thirty.

"_Oh, let's see_," he said playfully, suddenly sounding as awake as me. "_I'm almost a decade older than you. Your parents don't like me. I talked you into marrying me after only six weeks. And now, when I should be taking you on a honeymoon, instead I'm dragging you across the country so that you can meet my mother."_

"_It was my idea to go to California,_" I reminded him. "_And I'm not even going to respond to any of that other mess you spouted off."_

"_Mess, huh?"_ he asked, rolling onto his back and pulling me with him so that I was stretched out over top of him.

"_Uh huh_," I replied, smiling as he ran his hands over my hair and down my back. "_Although I'll admit that I'm still a little worried about what your mother's going to say."_

"_She'll chew me out for not telling her first_," he acknowledged. "_And then she'll fall in love with you as quickly as I did."_

I kissed him, lightly teasing his lips with mine as his hands continued their exploration.

Of course, that was when the alarm went off.

"_Can we hit the snooze button_?" he asked, still holding me tightly against him despite the cacophony of church bells sounding from the alarm clock.

"_Our flight leaves in two hours, so I guess we'd better not_," I reminded him, with no small amount of disappointment. I moved off of him and reached over to turn off the alarm. "_Although you know…it's probably a good thing."_

"_How could it possibly be a good thing that I don't get to make love to my wife this morning?"_

And even though I'd been thinking about it earlier…about the fact that I'm now his wife…it still felt strangely exciting and satisfying to hear him say the words.

"_Mile High club, remember? I want to make sure you're ready to go,_" I told him, flashing him a smile over my shoulder as I got up from the bed.

"_When have you known me not to be ready?"_

"_Well, like you pointed out…you're nearly a decade older than me, so…"_ I teased.

He tossed a pillow at me in response, but I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

Within a minute, he was behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing the side of my neck.

"_What are you doing?"_ I asked coyly as I leaned back into him.

"_I figured the shower stall would be good practice."_

"_For…_" I murmured, turning in his arms so that I could kiss him properly.

"_Airplane bathroom."_

So we got into the shower and worked out the logistics of maneuvering in a confined space, and then, somewhere over Kansas, we put it to the test.

And there's something to be said for the excitement that comes from the potential of getting caught.

It was a nice distraction, too, keeping that knot from forming in my stomach until we were ready to touch down in Los Angeles.

That was an hour ago, and now B and I were parked in front of his mother's home in East Compton.

He'd taken us on a slight detour after leaving LAX, stopping off at a high-end jewelry store.

"_B, there's no rush to buy rings_," I told him.

"_My mama's already going to be ticked off that I didn't tell her I was getting married, but if she thinks I didn't have the common courtesy to buy you a ring…"_

He trailed off as he turned to look at me, after shutting off the engine.

"_What?_" I asked, since he didn't finish his sentence.

"_Are you sure I'm not dreaming?"_ he asked me, reaching out to settle his palm along the side of my face.

"_You're not,"_ I replied softly, touched by his sudden romanticism.

He stroked his thumb over my cheek and then leaned in to kiss me.

"_Then let me put a ring on your finger_," he entreated, alternating words with kisses until he'd finished his statement, and then he capped off the assault with a long, drawn-out kiss that caused my toes to tingle.

"_Okay,"_ I agreed, slightly breathless after his show of affection. "_You have a hell of a persuasive method, B. It almost makes me tempted to say no and see what you'll do next."_

He responded to my tease by kissing me again, apparently enjoying the fact that he was getting me worked up again, but after a few minutes, we went into the jewelry store.

And now, like I said, we finally arrived at his mom's house.

"Should we take off the rings?" I asked him as he pulled the keys from the ignition. "I mean, until you tell her?"

"I'm never taking mine off. And I don't want you to take yours off, either, okay?" he said. Then he reached for the door handle and said, "Come on. It's going to be fine, I promise."

I met him at the front of the car and he took my hand in his and then together we crossed the street and started up the sidewalk.

We only made it a few feet before the front door flew open.

"Kevin!" the woman shouted as she hurried down the front steps. B let go of my hand and caught his mother in a hug at the bottom of the stairs. "It's so good to see you! I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming."

I watched the warm greeting, standing several feet away as she gushed on and on about how much she's missed her baby.

"Mama, I've got someone I want you to meet," he said after another minute.

She immediately pulled back and turned to look at me, and I suddenly felt like I needed to throw up.

_What is she thinking_, I worried.

If it were my mother, she'd surely comment on the wrinkled state of my too-casual clothes and my too-long windblown hair.

It was all I could do to keep from trying to smooth out both the clothes and the hair.

"This is Lauren, the woman I wrote to you about," Bernard said, moving over to me and once again taking me by the hand. "And she's my wife."

It felt like time stood still as his mother's jaw dropped and she shifted her gaze from me to him.

And then she gave him exactly what he'd been expecting.

"Did you fall on your head, son? You got married without telling me? What the hell happened to the sense the good Lord gave you?"

"Mama, I…"

"When?" she interrupted sharply.

"Yesterday," he answered. "I know it happened kind of fast, but…"

"Too fast to make a phone call? You didn't even think about picking up that fancy cell phone of yours and dialing a few digits to let a mother know that her only son was getting married? Kevin, I taught you better," she concluded, shaking her head at him.

I don't think I took a breath during the entire exchange.

And then she turned to look at me again, and I realized that I was clenching B's hand so tightly that my knuckles were starting to ache from the strain.

But then she smiled at me.

"Come here, honey," she said, opening her arms to me.

I peeled my fingers apart from B's and stepped hesitantly into her embrace, where she promptly clasped her arms around me and hugged me as if her life depended on it.

"Welcome to the family," she said. "Don't mind my fussing at Kevin. It's not about you, honey. Not about you at all. It would've been nice to know ahead of time, but you know what? You're both here now, and that's what matters."

She relaxed her embrace, but kept her hands on me, holding onto my shoulders as she looked me over.

"You're every bit as pretty as he said. And you're a detective, too, isn't that right?"

"Thank you. And yes, ma'am," I answered, relieved to find that my voice worked.

"Ma'am," she scoffed. "You call me Mama B, honey."

And then she tucked her arm through mine and led me towards the stairs as she said, "Come on. We've got some catching up to do. Kevin, get your bags from the car, and then drop in on your cousin next door."

Which meant she wanted to get me alone.

But after her enthusiastic greeting, I wasn't worried anymore.

Or at least, not _too_ much.

B started issuing his objections, but I glanced back at him and silently let him know that I was okay being alone with her.

We'd cheated her out of watching her son get married, so the least I could do was sit through a Q & A session to put her mind at ease about me.

Once we were inside, she guided me into the kitchen.

"You look like you could use a drink," she said as she gestured towards a chair covered in floral-patterned vinyl.

"Sure," I agreed_. _

_Bourbon, maybe? _

"It's almost twelve o'clock, isn't it?" she commented as she rummaged around in the cupboard. "Well, it doesn't matter. It's not every day my baby gets married."

She plopped down a bottle of Jim Beam on the kitchen table and then sat down across from me as she asked, "How does this grab you?"

"Perfect," I agreed, recognizing that maybe it was a test and I was supposed to say no, but at the same time, desperate enough for a drink not to care.

I heard the front door open and then slam closed, followed by B's heavy footsteps on the stairs.

"Have you told your parents yet?" she asked me as she slid a tumbler full of bourbon across the Formica table top.

"No," I answered, slightly distracted as my phone began to buzz.

"Go ahead. I know you've got a life," she said, indicating for me to check my phone.

It was a text from Jennifer.

_**Well? **_

That's all it said.

I had images of her typing the five characters one-handed while simultaneously engaging in other, more pleasurable activities, and I found myself smiling.

_**Why are you texting when you should be feeling up the Louisville slugger?**_

"Sorry," I told her after I sent the text. "Um, no, I haven't mentioned it to them yet. We're not really close."

"Oh. That's too bad. They're in Minnesota, right?"

I nodded as I took a healthy sip of the drink, and a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the bourbon and everything to do with the fact that not only had B talked about me enough to mention that, but also that his mother cared enough to remember.

"I'm sure they'll still want to know," she replied.

My phone buzzed loudly again, and I almost felt bad, but Mama B just smiled and leaned back in her chair.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "It's just…a friend from back home."

"Checking on you to make sure I'm being nice?" she asked in amusement. "Sounds like you've got good friends.

"I do, yes. Mostly because of B. Um…Kevin. They were his friends before they were mine. Most of them, anyway. He's such a great guy."

I trailed off as I read Jennifer's latest.

_**Definitely did that. And then did it again. And again. Now he's out picking up some food. How's La-La Land?**_

I thought about that briefly.

How is it?

Pretty nice, actually.

_**It's great. Don't worry about me. Just keep wearing out that DA and plan on giving me details tomorrow night.**_

"Okay, I'm turning it off," I said to B's mother after I sent the message.

"No need," she responded with a wave. "So…your parents."

"Right. Um…yeah, I haven't exactly lived up to their expectations."

"That's too bad. I mean, that they think like that. It's just you, right? I think Kevin mentioned that your brother passed at an early age."

"That's right. When we were teenagers."

"That must have been so hard," she remarked, reaching out to pat my hand. And then she glanced down, having caught sight of the shiny new band on my finger.

"I'm really sorry we didn't tell you first," I said as she traced her finger over the thick silver band.

"The last thing the two of you need to do is worry about me," she stated firmly. Then she sighed and said, "My boy does have good taste, doesn't he?"

I smiled as I looked at the ring again, with its beautiful etchings and inset diamonds.

"Yes, he does," I agreed.

"I don't mean the ring, honey."

I looked up to find her appraising me carefully and this time, I wasn't afraid of what she might say.

Because she actually seems to _like_ me.

Although I wonder if he told her about what happened to me.

And that I'll never be able to give her grandchildren.

"I feel like I know you, after reading Kevin's letters," she admitted. "And I can't say I'm surprised that you got married. That boy's written me hundreds of letters over the years, but never once has he mentioned a woman any more than just in passing. But you…he probably got a hand cramp from writing so much."

I felt my cheeks flush, wondering just exactly what he'd said, but she chuckled and added, "All good stuff, honey. And nothing that a son shouldn't tell his mother. I'm just glad you seem to feel the same way about him."

"I definitely do," I agreed quickly.

B's footsteps thundered back down the stairs and he came into the kitchen.

"Everything okay?" he asked as his gaze settled on mine.

It was that same steady, intense look that he gave me six weeks ago at 1PP.

"We're fine," I answered.

"Why don't you walk with me next door?" he suggested, picking up my glass and taking a sip from it.

"Kevin, you've had her all to yourself for six weeks. The least you can do is give me thirty minutes to get to know my daughter-in-law," his mother chastised.

I nodded my agreement, so he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, letting it linger for a moment before pulling back and telling us goodbye.

I watched him leave and then realized that Mama B was watching me.

"At his age, I'd kind of resigned myself to the fact that he wasn't going to get married," she confessed. "How old are you?"

Odd, that as much as he wrote about me, he hadn't mentioned my age.

Although maybe it's because it doesn't matter to him.

"Thirty-five," I answered.

"Any previous marriages?"

"No. Not even close."

"Really?" she asked in surprise. "I'd think a girl like you would be beating them off with a stick."

So she _doesn't_ know about the rape.

Which probably means she doesn't know about the lack of grandkids in her future…

And there's never really a good time to bring up something like that, is there?

Although I know when _not_ to mention it.

Right now.

"I've met my fair share of duds," I answered. "And then I decided to put my focus on my career for a while."

"You're a homicide detective," she said with a nod, and how silly is it that I got pleasure just from having her correctly state my job title? Or at least, the last title that she knew about.

"I'm actually in Major Case now," I told her. "As of last Monday."

"Good for you, honey," she said, beaming at me as she poured a little more bourbon into my glass. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be just as satisfied at work as you are at home."

I blushed again, twice in as many minutes, at the thought of exactly how satisfied I am at home.

Very, _very_ satisfied.

The phone rang, this time the old-fashioned rotary phone that was hanging on the wall.

"Let me get that," she said apologetically as she got up from the chair.

My phone buzzed as she answered the phone, and since she was otherwise occupied, I pulled it out.

It was a message from B.

_**Hanging in there okay? I can be home in two minutes**_.

I smiled, thinking about how he was probably chomping at the bit to come and rescue me from his mom.

_**She's great**_, I replied_**. Take your time.**_

Before I could put my phone away, I had another message, this one from Logan.

How sweet is he to think about me when he's currently wrapped in his own personal upheaval?

_**Have they crowned you Miss California yet?**_

_I'm never going to live down Alex's remark_, I thought, chuckling as I typed in my reply.

While I waited for him to text back, I casually tuned into Mama B's conversation.

"Knocked my socks off, too, Leanne," she stated. "Of course. You want to help me spread the word? I'm thinking six o'clock…uh huh…uh huh…"

She continued humming her agreement to whatever Leanne was saying, and then my phone buzzed again, with Logan's reply.

_**Just get a bigger bed. Your tiaras won't keep you warm at night. So everything's good? With Mrs. Bernard?**_

Definitely sweet.

I guess Carolyn must have told him about my conversation with my own mother this week.

But from the sound of the discussion happening over the phone, there was going to be a party tonight, apparently in mine and B's honor, so that was another good sign.

I let Logan know and then put my phone back right as B's mom ended the call.

"Sorry about that, honey," she said. "Good news travels fast in this neighborhood. You don't mind if we have some friends and family over tonight to celebrate, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Unless you were planning on going out on the town. I mean, this is your honeymoon, so I'll understand if…"

"We're here to see you," I interrupted. "And maybe next time we visit, we'll be able to stay longer and I can do some sightseeing."

"Next time," she agreed with a smile. "I like the sound of that. Listen, why don't you run next door and grab Kevin, and the two of you can get a little rest. You must have been up at the crack of dawn to get out here as early as you did. That'll give me some time to get things ready."

"Or I could help," I offered.

"Nonsense," she said with a dismissive wave. "Run along."

Which is how twenty minutes later, I found myself staring at the décor in B's bedroom, getting ready to take a nap.

"This was your room?" I asked him.

"Right up until I left for college," he said.

"Magic Johnson…I should've known," I said, eyeballing the poster of the Laker legend.

"Kareem…Rambis…Worthy…"

"Yeah, okay, so you guys had one good year," I teased.

"One? We've got sixteen world championships under our belt."

"I don't care what they've got under theirs. I want to know what you've got under yours."

"I thought you wanted to come up here for a nap," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble as he pulled me into his arms.

"Does your door lock?"

"Uh huh," he replied, kissing along my neck.

"Wait…did you ever bring girls up here? I mean, when you were in high school?"

"Are you kidding me? No way. I went to Catholic school, remember? I didn't become a sinner until much later," he said on a chuckle.

We locked the door and stripped down and got into his twin-sized bed and _then_…I was out like a light.

I mean, one second I was enjoying the feel of B's lips roaming over my skin, and the next thing I knew, his mother was knocking on the door.

"Kevin? Are you two awake?"

"We're up," he answered sleepily from his position beneath me.

"Just checking. People will start showing up within the hour."

"We'll be down in thirty minutes," he promised.

"Thirty minutes?" I whispered. "It'll take me that long to shower and get ready. You're not leaving any time for anything else."

"Hey, we had time. You fell asleep, remember?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry," I conceded.

"Married one day, and you're already bored with me," he said teasingly, neither of us making any move to get up from his bed.

"Not even close," I told him. "I'm thinking that after the party, we get back in this bed and do all the things that you used to dream about when you slept here."

"You mean I can play for the Lakers?"

I barked out a laugh as I rolled off of him and set my feet on the floor.

"I'm sure you had a dirty fantasy or two, B."

"Only since I met you," he countered as he trailed his fingers along my back. "And let me tell you, those first couple of weeks…I came up with some good ones."

"What about after that?"

"After that, I got to live out my fantasies," he explained.

"Surely not all of them," I challenged.

I got up from the bed and stretched for a moment, feeling the heat of his gaze on me as I worked out the kinks from the midday nap. Then I turned around to face him, stepping up to stand between his legs, where he sat on the edge of the bed.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned in close, kissing his cheek and then whispering in his ear, "Give it some thought, and tonight I'll make it come true."

An hour or so later, as I mingled with no less than fifty of Mrs. Bernard's closest family and friends, B keeps catching my eye from across the room, and wow…I'll admit it.

I'm a little anxious to get back upstairs and see what he's come up with.

Because the looks he keeps giving me have kept my mind wandering down x-rated paths, despite my innocuous conversation with cousin after cousin after cousin…

"So tell us how you met."

"Was it romantic?"

"Was it love at first sight?"

I was presently surrounded by twin seventeen-year-old girls, the daughters of Mama B's youngest sibling.

"I…basically blew him off," I admitted with a smile.

"And I made a fool of myself drooling over her," B added as he came up behind me. He wrapped one arm around me, and in his other hand he held a bottle of beer, which he offered to me.

"I can see that," another cousin added as he joined the fray.

Twenty-one, or so would be my guess, and I was instantly reminded of Jeremy.

"And I don't just mean the drooling part," he added, grinning broadly at us. "I mean, I can see why she blew you off, Big Cat."

I nearly choked on the beer.

"Big Cat?" I asked him as the others around us started laughing.

"You didn't tell her that one, huh, BC?"

"High school," B said with a roll of his eyes. Then he looked pointedly at his cousin and added, "Because I had moves like a cat on the court."

"And it was better than that other name they had for you," yet another cousin added as he joined the group. He was closer to my age, maybe a little older. He flashed me a smile and said, "Saint Bernard."

"It's always _so_ much fun to visit the old homestead," B joked. "I'm still waiting for the naked baby pictures to make an appearance."

"Oh, that's for the slide show a little later," was the teasing response.

B took the beer back from me and killed it before gesturing towards the kitchen.

"Come on, Lauren. Let's get another drink and then there are a few more people I want you to meet."

I followed him into the kitchen and it was every bit as crowded as the living room, throngs of people chatting amicably, drinking and eating and having a good time.

I thought back to some of the parties that my parents had thrown in my younger years.

Classical music filtering through the house.

Delicacies prepared by professionals, placed strategically throughout the _conversation zones_.

Wine and top-shelf liquor, each served in crystal glasses by circulating wait staff.

_This is so much better_, I thought as B opened a bottle of Rolling Rock and then handed it to me.

Casserole dishes covered the table, a little something brought by each guest.

Coolers lined one wall of the kitchen, containing each person's stash of alcohol.

There was a radio on the kitchen counter, tuned into a blues station, and the one in the living room had been pounding out something with a little more beat.

"What do you think?" B asked me quietly, having retrieved a beer for himself and then come up behind me as I surveyed the room.

I turned around and laid a kiss on him, catching him by surprise and yet he recovered nicely, slipping his free hand around my back and taking full advantage of my show of affection.

And maybe it was inappropriate of us, I don't know, but no one seemed to care.

"I think I love your family," I told him quietly, after forcing myself to pull away.

"The feeling's mutual," he replied. Then he grinned and said, "I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah," I said dismissively. "I bet it was pretty great growing up though, huh? I mean, I knew you were an only child, so I didn't think about how big the rest of your family might be."

"My mom is one of eight kids," he explained, spouting off the names of her siblings to remind me of those I'd met already tonight. "Her three brothers each have four kids, and between her sisters, there are eleven more…"

"Wow. Fifteen cousins. And everyone grew up around here?"

"Within a ten-block radius," he said with a nod. "Sometimes it was a little too much, but most of the time…it was pretty good. Of course the twins didn't come along until after I moved to New York, and I was in college when Thomas was born, but the rest of us are fairly close in age."

I watched his face as he looked around the room, and I was hit with a sudden feeling of longing and loss…I mean, I won't be able to give this to him. This big family and sense of togetherness. I have no cousins, no aunts or uncles, no siblings…it's just me and my bitchy mother and arrogant father.

"What is it?" he asked, having turned in time to catch the expression on my face.

"I was just thinking…"

"Uh oh."

"I'm serious, B. This is you. And I think it's great, but we won't have this."

"We _do_ have this," he countered. "Right here."

"Now, maybe. But your cousins will start having kids…a few of them have some already, and the next generation will have _their_ get-togethers and you'll be the odd-man out because your wife can't give you any children."

And I have no idea where that came from, but as I finished my whispered assessment, my voice cracked, and I suddenly found myself fighting off tears.

"Let's go outside," he said quickly, ushering me out the sliding glass door and into the tiny backyard.

"I'm sorry," I said instantly. "I don't know what made me say that…not right now, anyway. And I really don't mean to ruin the party for you. Your mom's been so great, and everyone's been so accepting of me and our marriage and…"

"Lauren," he interrupted, taking the bottle from my hand and setting it down on the old wooden picnic table.

Then he cupped my face in his hands, with his fingertips dipping into my hair, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he just stayed really close as he said, "This isn't just _me_. This is _us_. This is _our_ family, and it doesn't matter whether or not we have kids. We'll always be welcome here. I know it's hard for you to understand, considering how your folks are so different, but the only expectations here are kindness and honesty. That's it."

"But…"

"No buts. And as for me…we talked about this. Even if you could have children, would we want them? I don't know. It would mean one of us having to give up our job, because we can't both work insane hours and raise a child, and I don't think either of us want to do that. And there's nothing wrong with that. We can be happy, just the two of us, don't you think?"

"Yes," I answered immediately. "Definitely."

"Okay then. Stop thinking that you're holding me back from anything," he admonished lightly. "What if it were me? Would it make you want me any less if I were the one who couldn't have them?"

"No."

"Then…"

I sighed and closed my eyes, realizing both the truth behind his statement and the fact that I'd overreacted. Again.

"Sorry. I panicked. I saw this wonderfully huge family and you fit in so well with everyone and…"

"And I'm an only child," he finished. "Just like you. So we'll get our family from my cousins, and from all of our friends in New York, okay?"

"Okay."

"And really…as much as I love both of those families, you know there's only one person I need, right? One person I can't live without," he stated meaningfully, and then he finally closed the last distance, kissing me with such emotion and intensity that I felt the tears pricking at the back of my eyes again.

_Must be the sleep deficiency_, I rationalized.

"Ready to go back inside?" he asked with a smile. "Because otherwise the rumors are going to get started about just exactly what it is we're doing out here."

So we went back in, and my emotional crisis was over.

They seem to be getting shorter and less intense lately, so that's a good thing.

We made the rounds, together and individually, for the next couple of hours, and then his mother cornered me in the kitchen.

"Come upstairs with me for a minute, honey," she suggested, and without waiting for my response, she headed in that direction.

I really like his mother, and her bustling efficiency. I caught B's eye from across the room and winked at him and then followed his mother out.

Upstairs, she led me into her bedroom and then closed the door, and I was suddenly a little nervous.

Not that I thought she was going to be mean or anything, but…I just had no idea what.

"Thanks for letting me show you off tonight," she began. "I know it's probably overwhelming for you, meeting so many people at once, but your trip is such a short one, and I wanted everyone to get the chance to talk to you. I'm so happy that you're making my baby happy."

"Um…it's mutual," I said awkwardly. "He's made my life better in more ways than I can count. And I haven't minded tonight at all. You have a wonderful family."

"Yes, I do," she agreed, turning around to walk further into the room. She stopped in front of her dresser and then looked back at me. "Relax, honey. This isn't the part where I start begging for grandkids or warning you away from the family fortune."

I let out a strangled laugh and asked, "Family fortune? I hadn't heard about that."

Then she started laughing and said, "I haven't either. Figure of speech. And as for grandkids…well, that's none of my business. You and Kevin have important jobs that keep you busy, so you might not even want kids, and I'm just fine with that. I bet you get enough prodding along those lines from your mother, don't you?"

"And my father," I agreed.

"I don't understand the big deal," she continued as she rummaged through a collection of items on the dresser. "I might harp on Kevin once in a while about what he eats, but it's because I want him healthy. And I know I won't have to worry about that anymore, because I trust you want the same thing as me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am? Are we back to that?"

"Sorry," I said quickly. "Mama B."

"Right. So anyway, just so you know, you won't get that kind of pressure from me. But I would like it if you'd give me your cell phone number. Maybe we can exchange texts from time to time."

As she finished her statement, she turned around and handed me her cell phone so that I could input my number.

"I thought you don't text," I said curiously.

"With Kevin," she replied, smiling broadly. "I don't want to let him off the hook of writing me those informative letters. I mean, how much would I have learned about you if I was only getting it one sentence at a time?"

"Good point," I agreed as I logged in my number. "So he really talked about me a lot, huh?"

"_Mama, I think I've met the one_, he told me," she said with a smile. "Three pages later, he finally started talking about his job, which is usually the first thing he talks about."

"That was so early on, too," I mused as I gave her back her phone. "Did he tell you that he stayed at my place, only a couple of days after we met, because I had a concussion and needed someone to wake me up every hour? He barely knew me, and yet he slept on my couch and made sure I was okay."

"He's a good man, my Kevin."

"Yes, he is."

She pulled me into another hug, and when she released me, I realized she was crying.

I had absolutely no idea what to say.

"Don't mind me," she sniffled. "I'm just…I can't believe he's married. I kind of thought that ship had sailed, you know?"

"I do," I agreed.

"Anyway, I have something for you," she said, turning briefly back to the dresser and then holding up a necklace in front of me. On a long, silver chain hung a pendant, an etched infinity symbol encrusted with green amethysts.

It was absolutely beautiful.

"It was my grandmother's, and then my mother's, and she passed it on to me with the instruction of giving it to my daughter, but of course, Kevin was the only child in the cards for me, so…you're my daughter now. And I want you to have it."

A few minutes later, we rejoined the party, me with the treasured necklace adorning my neck and Mama B with a big smile on her face and a renewed case of the sniffles.

I never once imagined that this trip would go so well…that I would be so welcomed.

Of course, B was right.

He told me she'd love me simply because he does.

"Now…tell me about that fantasy," I said to him once we were alone again in his childhood bedroom.

I locked the door as I made the demand, and then I turned around to find him staring at me with undisguised interest.

I stayed where I was and started slowly unbuttoning my blouse.

"Do you have any idea how many men wish they were me right now?" he asked. He stood in the middle of the room, his complete attention on me as I continued undressing at a leisurely pace.

"No idea," I responded.

"Every one who's ever laid eyes on you."

"I don't know about that," I argued lightly.

He crossed the room, moving to stand in front of me as I freed the last button.

"I do," he insisted.

He trailed his fingers up my arms until he encountered the edge of the fabric on the capped sleeves of my blouse and then he took over removing it, pulling it off my arms and letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes immediately settled on the pendant that rested between my breasts, and I found myself reaching up to trace my finger over it.

"Did you know she was going to give this to me?" I asked him.

"No, but I can't tell you how it makes me feel to know that she did," he answered. "Everything about us is just exactly right."

"Except for my parents," I reminded him.

"What would life be without a little bit of conflict, right?" he offered.

"Ha ha. That's putting a positive spin on things."

"Are you going to let them bother you tonight?" he asked, sliding his hand into my hair, cupping the back of my head as he leaned in for the kiss.

_No_, is the short answer to that. I'm _absolutely_ not going to think about my parents _now_.

He walked me backwards slightly, until I was firmly against the door, and then he redoubled his efforts, until I couldn't keep from moaning.

"You know my mother is right across the hall, right?" he whispered, although he was smiling as he made the comment.

"If I'm supposed to stay quiet, then we might have a problem. You're too good."

"I'm just getting started," he warned, his voice low and gravelly as he kissed me again, this time running his hand down my body until he reached the waistband of my skirt, and then he slid his hand inside.

"Wait," I managed to say. "This is supposed to be your fantasy."

"Having a beautiful woman want to make love to me in my late-eighties era bedroom…that's a fantasy," he countered as he worked his lips and teeth and tongue over my neck while at the same time trying to push my skirt down over my hips.

But it has a zipper and a clasp, and it's not going anywhere like it is, so he finally pulled back in frustration and looked down at the garment.

"You have to unhook it," I said in amusement.

"Or…" he posed, and then he bent down and reached beneath it with both hands, grabbing onto my underwear and pulling them down my legs. "We leave it on and work around it."

"I love a man with a plan."

"Oh, I've got a plan," he assured me, and then he reached down and picked me up, cradling me in front of him as he turned around and walked back to the bed. "There might not be a lot of room, but I think we can make it work for us."

He set me down and then finished undressing me until I was wearing nothing but the pendant and my wedding band.

"Now that's a fantasy come true," he said, letting his eyes travel over me appreciatively as he got himself undressed.

Then he sat down on the edge of the bed, and after his eyes tracked a path, he followed it with his hands.

And then hands gave way to lips, and I did my best to lie still under his ministrations as a pleasant buzzing rolled throughout my body.

"You have to be quiet," he said softly, his mouth burning a path over my skin.

"I don't know if I can," I answered as I began shifting restlessly in anticipation.

He moved over top of me and finally captured my lips with his, drowning out my reaction as he pushed fully into me.

There's nothing quite like that feeling, that confident initial thrust that almost always makes me catch my breath.

He stayed still inside of me, focusing instead on our kiss, until I couldn't wait any longer. I was so close just from the feel of him that it probably wouldn't take much more than him starting to move before I'd be ready to scream out his name.

I slid my hands down his back and over his butt, squeezing the firm muscle as encouragement for him to start moving, and he chuckled as he broke off the kiss.

"Anxious?" he teased, still not moving, but I swear his look of love and adoration was almost enough to do it for me.

"I'm close," I admitted.

He leaned down and kissed me again as he started up a powerful rhythm, but then he stopped again only moments later, and this time both of us started laughing, because the headboard had made a cracking sound against the wall, not to mention the springs beneath us that suddenly sounded as if they were going to snap at any moment.

"Now what?"

"Come on," he said as he got up from the bed and held out his hand to me. I got up and he pulled the blanket from the bed and then gestured towards the rug on the floor. "It's not a Vincent Wolfe, but will it still work?"

It definitely worked.

In fact, it worked so well, that the next morning, I let him have me again, right there on the hideous purple and gold rug.

"So…Big Cat," I murmured as we each struggled to catch our breath after our morning workout. I was stretched out over top of him and his fingers were idly roaming over my back.

"That's not something we need to take back to New York with us," he said, as laughter rumbled through him.

"Oh, you mean like Princess? Or Miss Minnesota?"

"I didn't start either of those," he pointed out.

"I know. But Logan sure does enjoy using them. He texted me yesterday and asked me if I've been crowned Miss California yet."

"He does come up with some good ones," he remarked, still chuckling. "And you said…"

"Oh, I gave him a whole line of BS. But I was thinking that Mrs. Bernard is the only title I need. Well, that and _Detective_. How much do you think it'll bug the chief if he has two Detective Bernards?"

"In addition to the two Gorens and two Logans?"

"Uh huh."

"Are you thinking about taking my name?" he asked carefully, and I'm sure it's something he's been wondering about, but it's all happened so fast that we haven't discussed it at all.

"What do you think?" I questioned, levering up with my forearms against his chest so that I could look him in the eye.

"I think…that I'd love for you to be Lauren Bernard. But it's a big decision. And not one that you have to make right now."

I stared into his eyes for a minute, getting temporarily lost in the rich brown color, and the events of the past couple of days suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"For…"

"For bringing me here. For sharing your family with me. For marrying me. For…everything."

_For helping me deal with the lingering after-effects of the rape…for standing beside me while I faced Flowers…for appreciating me for who I am rather than what I look like…_

The last few reasons were left unsaid, but I think he heard the words all the same.

"You're welcome," he replied simply as he ran a hand over my hair. "It goes both ways, you know."

"Maybe, but…"

"Kevin!" his mother called out, knocking loudly on the door. "Are you up? I've got breakfast ready."

"We'll be down in a few minutes," he answered, smirking at me as he hugged me to him, neither of us in any hurry to go anywhere.

Although the scent of bacon seemed to be making its way into the room…

"See?" he said, once we heard her footsteps fade away. "Thank you for taking my mother in stride…and for agreeing to stay at the house even though a hotel would've given us more privacy…and for giving me a chance, even though you blew me off that first time you saw me."

"Oh, I only pretended to blow you off," I corrected. "But I checked you out. You didn't notice?"

"I couldn't see anything but your eyes," he stated sweetly. "And I wasn't done thanking you."

"For yelling at you randomly last week? For breaking up with you a few weeks before that?"

"For marrying me."

Twenty minutes later, we were dressed in what was actually our pajamas, and we were sitting at the kitchen table. There were plates full of eggs and bacon, hash browns and toast, sliced tomatoes and diced fruit.

"I don't cook much when it's just me," his mother said self-consciously.

"It looks great, Mama B," I told her as I quickly filled a plate with food.

I hadn't eaten much yesterday, probably due to nerves, and this morning my stomach was growling.

We had a few hours before we'd need to head to the airport, so we'd agreed to go to morning mass with his mom.

"_It'll give me another chance to show off my son and his wife,_" she'd explained proudly last night after extending the invitation.

"_Um…"_ B hedged, looking at me questioningly.

"_Sure,_" I answered for us. I mean, it's been a long time since I've been in a church, but I'm pretty sure I won't burst into flames.

So after breakfast, and after showering and dressing in what my mother would call _respectable clothes_, I went downstairs to find B and his mother waiting for me in the living room.

"I'm sorry," I said immediately. "I didn't mean to hold you up."

"Honey, it's a three-block walk. We'll make it just fine. And even if we don't, the Lord isn't going to smite us for being tardy."

It was a beautiful morning, and I felt indescribably happy as we made the short walk. I held Bernard's hand and his mother chattered amicably, and it was just…perfect.

She introduced me as her _new daughter_ to her friends in the church, and she made a point of telling them that I'm a detective, just like her son, and I started to feel sorry for myself, wishing that for _one second_ in my life I'd been the object of that type of parental pride, but then I realized that I'm getting it _now_.

And damn, it feels good.

I found the service fascinating, considering it was my first experience in a Catholic church, although I was slightly distracted by the fact that my phone buzzed three times during that hour, and I had to leave it in my purse, not wanting to be disrespectful.

When the service let out, and we went back outside, I pulled out my phone.

"You, too?" B asked me as he pulled his from his suit pocket. "I got a few calls."

"Connie," I told him as I looked at the display. "And Mike."

"Me, too," he said. "Voicemail?"

"I'll just call Mike back. His was the last one."

_What now_, I wondered as I made the call.

I don't have an active case at the moment.

Flowers is in prison.

_Schmenke_ is in prison.

Even the copycat rapist is behind bars, so life is good.

"Lauren," Mike said quickly when he picked up the phone. "I'm really sorry to bother you this weekend."

"It's fine. Connie called, too, but we were in church. What's going on?"

His words caused me to close my eyes and take a deep breath while at the same time, I reached for B's hand.

"Lauren? Are you there?" Mike asked.

"I'm still here. I'm…yeah, okay."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"How did this happen?"

"You want me to give you the rundown of the flaws in the system?" he asked in frustration.

And I know it's not his fault.

Hell, _his_ weekend was being interrupted, too.

He was probably still in bed with Jennifer when he got the call.

I need to quit being so selfish, thinking that I'm the only one affected.

_Although in this case…_

"So they don't have any idea?"

"No, but that doesn't mean…"

"I know. Thanks, Mike. I appreciate you letting me know. Are we still meeting for dinner tonight?"

"Of course. Have a safe trip home."

I hung up, my eyes still squeezed shut, and then I finally opened them and found B staring at me intently.

"Tell me," he said softly.

"I knew this weekend was too perfect."

"There's no such thing," he argued. "Us having a good time doesn't mean that something bad has to happen."

"But it did," I said. "It's Flowers. He escaped from prison."

I dropped the bombshell, and then proceeded to come unglued.

"We need to call Mulder. I'm still listed at that address, and there's no telling what Flowers might do to him if he thinks he knows something about where I am or how to get to me…I can't believe this…I bet Schmenke has something to do with it. I mean, of course he does. He set up another woman to get raped just to get reasonable doubt for Flowers, so why not lay out the plans for him to escape prison? Oh my God, B, we need to go home now…we need to…"

"Hey," he said quietly. "It's going to be alright."

"How can you say that? You heard him that night at Frackville. You heard what he said he'd do if he ever got out."

"And I know what _I'll_ do if he ever tries it," he said firmly. "Aside from that, you're not the same woman you were before. You're stronger now. He can't hurt you again. Do you know why?"

I was nearly hyperventilating, but at his calming yet confidence-building speech, I started to slow down my breathing.

He's right.

I'm fine.

Nothing in my life now is as it was back then.

He can't hurt me again.

He _won't_ hurt me again.

"Why?" I asked shakily.

"Because you're Lauren Hayes. And he's nothing."

"No," I said, shaking my head, my pounding heart gradually slowing to a steady gallop.

"Lauren…"

"He's nothing," I said forcefully. "And I'm Lauren Bernard."

**The End**


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